My Life as a Zombie ch 5
by Jimmyjo
Summary: This is the final chapter of my short story/book about a zombies life and what they think and do. I hope you enjoy it and help me out by providing and feedback. Thank you.


If I could still feel anything anymore I would say that the three new bullet holes in my chest would impair me but seeing as I don't feel anything I don't worry about them. You're probably wondering where, why and how I got my three new openings. I was strolling right along the street when all of a sudden my zombie sense kicked in (the survivors made a noise) and I started to move towards a building where I was joined by a bunch of my fellow eaters. We proceeded to walk through the building to where the survivors were, one by one each of the companions around me were dropping except me, I continued to walk forward. After a step or two a bullet pierced me in chest not impeding me the slightest, but apparently they didn't notice and shot two more shots higher up. If they hadn't run out of bullets they might have killed me? Unfortunately for them they ran out of bullets and didn't realize they could've just hit me in the head, we then preceded to eat them. There were three men and four girls who all seemed to be fitness/super models because of their skinny figure. They were like eating a small portion of French fries, appetizing but not filling.

I function (think but not really think because I can't) whether the "important" people in the world are still out there like the president of the united states or Chevy Chase, or even if someone like Bill Gates is still surviving somewhere, waiting. If they are out there how are they handling all this, what are they doing? Does Bill Gates still design and come up with new ways to make money from all of this or has this caused the mental damage on him? If I could still mentally hope (not philosophically hope) that Justin Beiber is a zombie or that if he isn't I get to find him and get the joy of eating that little spoiled brat. Probably wouldn't be good for me, though because he is filled with bad music and I don't know if that will have an effect on me. If he is out there, he's scared, he's probably most likely wishing for his nightmare to end, I got bad news this will never end.

Having a giant hole in your stomach isn't very fun, I can't even use it, it's just there doing nothing making me look stupid. I've overheard some of the other zombies at walking times discuss and snicker (sort of, the zombie version of a snicker) about how ridiculous I look with my gaping hole in my stomach. That's right, zombies talk about each other about other zombies just like in high school, except instead of giggly, bratty girls we have flesh hanging out of your mouth with blood all over zombies. They talk about how I'm a waste of a zombie because I can't keep anything in my stomach anymore. They talk about how they would want to get rid of me, but they can't because we don't harm our own kind, and be able to save more for them. I would like to at least be able to use my former stomach for something, even if its storage, but I can't because I lost the ability to pick things up unless I'm eating it.

How are all the skinny zombies staying skinny? We all eat at least once a day something that's living. It's embedded into us to the living and I can't imagine that all of the zombies should be really fat because we don't ever go to the bathroom to get rid of it so where does it all go? Unless if we are all walking around with a giant pile of poo in our pants, which would make a little sense seeing it does seem like the survivors seem to know when we are coming. Maybe they can smell all of us from like a mile away and we are making it easier for them to prepare and survive. I that is the case though I can't imagine (really I can't anymore) that the survivors wouldn't get sick and grossed out a lot more by the smell so I don't know what happens to all the delicious human/other living food goes. I know that for me the food falls out the front but what about everyone (can I really call them "everyone" anymore) else?

In this new world that I now roam I can't help but to function about how the survivors must feel through this whole thing. They must be so scared, so helpless (most of them) and probably so worried that they are starting to turn on each other ( if they are in a group). That's the nice thing about being a zombie is that we don't have to worry about depending on each other or being afraid of anything. We have become the new dominant species (I've heard down the chain that we can even take on lions tigers and bears (oh my) with no problems). This brings up my last point in this account of my travels (my brain is almost at no more functionality) who's "life" is really better right now yours (the survivor) or mine_


End file.
